Thursday, August 14, 2014

I'm delighted to participate in an excellent blog hop with fabulous prizes. Not only will each author give something away, but the overall hop has four great gifts:~A Kindle Fire donated by Blushing Books~ A $100 gift card to either Amazon or B&N~ A $50 GC~A $25 GC

All you have to do to enter is leave a comment at any author's blog to get one of the overall prizes, but to get a free ebook from me, you have to answer the following question:What is the English vice?Where's the answer, you ask? Somewhere on this blog (duh).So if you ever wondered about British kink, read on!

We
banged against each other hard, wildly, with no rhythm, but frantically,
mindless animals seeking completion. My breath came in grunts and pants, and
Sherlock’s chest heaved against me as I jerked and bucked. We slid against each
other, slippery with sweat before he grabbed my wrists and pinned them high against
the headboard. He began to ride me in earnest, with a steadiness that drew me
into his rhythm. When we were moving in tandem he released my wrists and
dropped his head to kiss my mouth, thrusting his tongue inside when his rod
reached deep.

He reached
for my legs, drawing them high and setting my ankles on his shoulders before
slapping my ass-cheek in cadence with his thrusts. I tore my lips away from his
and gasped, “Sherlock!”

He
laughed. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, but—“

“But
what?” He pulled out of me and flipped me over onto my belly, spanking me again
on my available bum.

“But…”
I knew that the English had a predilection for spanking their women. In fact,

caning was known as the English vice, but I had never before encountered it,
and I was not sure I wanted to.

I
squirmed away, and he pursued, shoving a pillow beneath my hips and pinning me
down with one strong arm over my low back. He caressed my buttocks, focusing on
the spots he’d already slapped.

He
palmed my bottom, then spanked me again. I sucked in a breath, close to tears. I
wasn’t about to cry from the pain, which was slight, but the experience was so
unsettling… I felt that I was on some sort of border. I could step over into an
unknown country, or stay within what was comfortable. I knew that Sherlock
would stop if I asked, but did I want to ask?

A lot more happened during Sherlock's hottest, sexiest night, but you'll have to read the story to find out!

Rememberr: this is a blog hop. Find other authors' sexy snippets here:http://patriciagreenbooks.com/hot-days-hotter-nights-blog-hop/

About Me

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello has written nineteen books in several genres, including nonfiction, memoir, romance, erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and articles on writing. She has also contributed to several bestselling boxed sets. Learn more about her books at her site, suzdemello.com.